Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

North & South: A Continutation	By : gallygaskins Category: M through R > North and South (BBC) > North and South (BBC) Views: 11128 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Elizabeth Gaskell's or the 2004 BBC adaptation of North and South and I make no money from this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Chapter 7 – A pleasant dream

John and Margaret both lay back onto the rug that John had thoughtfully carried to the remote spot by the river in the woods that he had decided to take Margaret to in order for them to spend the day together on their own. His mother had been all protestations before they had left the mill, asking John to think of how his and Miss Hale's behaviour would be considered inappropriate and that John should think of Miss Hale's reputation. He'd just nodded and grinned at his mother before taking Margaret's small hand in his own and walked her out of the house.

John sighed, his chest visibly deflating with the exertion of his act.

"What's the matter, John?" Margaret asked her voice barely above a whisper.

He turned on his side, now able to survey the full extent of the beauty that lay beside him. "Nothing." He breathed out, his smile lazy as he caught her eyes thoughtfully watching him. "I was just thinking about mother."

"What about her?" Margaret asked.

"I just can't understand why she continues with this ruse of hers, one minute caring about what we do for the sake of propriety and the next, making you out to be some kind of demon that has been sent here to destroy me."

"She's just a concerned mother; she wants what's best for her son. Obviously she doesn't believe I'm it otherwise she'd be happy for us, well you at least."

John reached over, caressing Margaret's cheek, her nerve endings tingling and awakening something within her that was both agreeable yet alien at the same time. She closed her eyes to the sensation hoping that the feeling would never end. She felt John moving closer to her position, felt his warm breath against her cheek, felt his other hand on top of her head smoothing down her hair as it splayed out in a fuzzy sort of halo. She was rendered powerless, unable to move even a finger or think clearly as John began to move the hand that had been stroking her face. She felt it move down her neck, gently trace the exposed portion of her collar bone, before his fingers flittered down across the lace at the neckline of her dress, over the swell of her breast to the cleft at her cleavage. She raked in a steadying breath as her eyes opened wide; she looked down her body trying to focus on the position of his hand but failed. She could tell his hand was now over her breast, her nipple becoming taut through the layers of cotton and linen she was wearing. She shut her eyes once more; her head sliding backward as she felt herself beginning to swim within this unaccustomed tidal wave John was subjecting her too.

"Are you alright, Margaret?" John asked, his mouth almost on her ear. She nodded slowly, unable to respond in any other way. "I'd better stop," he said regretfully. "Before I'm unable to."

"No," she managed, as her arms found their way about his neck and drew him to her. "Please, John. Don't stop!"

"But, Margaret ..." He became lost in her embrace as she wound her arms about his neck, pulling him to her and kissing him gently on the lips. "Oh, God forgive me," he proffered, before fervently kissing his beloved's lips.

Margaret lay back down pulling John with her as she became lost to his sweet kisses, becoming aware of the sun's rays graciously warming her skin as it slowly became exposed to the elements of the August sunshine. John sat up, his handiwork becoming evident as he pulled open the tunic of Margaret's dress and attempted to free her from it. She helped him by sitting up herself and pulling the open neckline from around her shoulders. He leant into her, kissing the newly exposed décolletage, his hands skimming over her shoulders and pulling the fabric that still encased them down over the tops of her arms, his actions only aiding to increase her wanton desire. Her hands went to the tie of her corset and began pulling on the end of the ribbon but he stopped her once more. "I knew you would be the devil incarnate when I finally got you into my bed, my Margaret." He teased. "Let me do this, little one. All I want from you is for you to enjoy and savour every moment of it."

"How many times have you done this, John?" She asked, afraid of his answer.

"What? Made love to a woman?" He watched her nod her head. "Never. I have had women in my bed before, Margaret, but it has never been as an act of love, just necessity." She smiled, kissing him once more before settling back and allowing him to undo the constricting laces of the corset which she was soon free of. Skilfully, John continued removing her clothing until she was finally only in her vest and pantaloons. "Would you like to help me now?" He asked of her. She nodded her acceptance and together they continued stripping John of his clothing until he was in nothing but his drawers. She pulled at the drawers' waistband expectantly, like a vixen waiting to pounce on her prey but John pulled her hands into his and kissed the back of them. "Not yet, little one. I'm sure Edith has told you much about the joys of what go on between a husband and wife already but I need you to wait until I believe you are ready for me." She nodded again, lying back down and waiting for him to join her.

John began to trace his fingers over her skin once more, hoping to evoke the same reaction as he had done so before. She hissed inwardly as his fingers caressed her nipple through the now thin cotton material, his mouth kissing over the gentle swell that was exposed, his tongue languidly swirling in the same place and his teeth nipping at the flesh that now heaved in time with Margaret's increasingly rapid breathing. He moved in closer, his leg settling between her own as her body began to writhe from his touches. He wanted more of her but knew that he could easily shock or offend her if he weren't careful. Slowly he began to pull down the fabric of her vest, exposing one breast then the other, his hands covering them just as quickly in order to keep Margaret from feeling uncomfortable.

But Margaret couldn't have cared, she could feel her body react to his every command, it mattered not what he did as long as he kept her riding this new unchartered wave of erotica. His hands were still covering her breasts, moving them in small circles over her now erect nipples. Her hands slid up to his removing them from her, she knew not why but she knew she wanted to feel totally free, totally free to have him love her and love him in return. "John, stop treating me like a doll and make love to me."

John leant up, taken aback by Margaret's forthright observation and further still when she got up from her position on the rug, began tugging at her undergarments and freeing herself totally from her confines. "Margaret, I ...?"

She turned on the spot, standing in front of him, her arms by her sides, her hair flapping around in the slight breeze that had sprung to life as the sun had left its spot in the centre sky and was now descending. His eyes swept gluttonously over her body wanting to devour her, taking in every minute detail of her alabaster skin, the rose pink nipples as they stood erect in the cool breeze and the gentle movement of the dark hair over her sex. "Don't you like what you see?" She asked. He nodded, his own body aching with desire for her. "Well, aren't we supposed to be enjoying this?" She knelt down close to him, her nipples brushing up against his arm, her sex smelling sweet.

"Of course we are, but it's your first time, Margaret."

"What difference does that make, John?"

"I don't want to hurt you." He reached out and cupped her face in his hands.

"But surely, it won't be as painful if I'm unaware of the hurting taking place." She smiled. "Will it?"

"I suppose not, I never thought of it like that." He answered brightening. "So, my wanton mistress, how do you think we should go about this?"

"Why not just take me this first time? We can appreciate one another next time, in fact, every time after this one. We have our whole lives together to make love." She got up again, "Why don't we play a little game of hide and seek?" She ran around the nearest tree, popping her head around it to see John's reaction, it was good; he had a playful glint in his cool blue eyes. "Come on, John, find me." She ran off again in another direction.

John got up, stripping himself of his drawers and running off after her. "Perhaps we can go for a dip?" He suggested, hearing the splash of water before he reached the side of the clear sparkling river. She was in the middle treading water and smiling coyly at his growing erection. He stepped into the water, moving ever closer as she began to splash him, but he was having none of it. He grabbed her flailing arms with ease and pulled her to him, their lips making contact as he pulled her into his embrace. Each murmured as they became lost in the moment with each other, their bodies coming together in a united appreciation. He picked her up, his hands circling her buttocks and allowed her to circle his hips with her legs as he walked them back out of the water and to their waiting rug on the bank. He set her down, joining her as she lay there before him. He took a position of foreboding above her but he could see she wasn't scared, he could see she wanted him, her eyes glazed, her body ready. But first he wanted to make sure.

He leant down, his mouth finding one nipple whilst his hand found the other, she moaned and wriggled beneath him and as he continued his assault, letting his other hand find her sex. She instinctively opened her legs, allowing him the access he so sorely needed. He inserted a finger to another cry of jubilation feeling inside her silky folds and establishing that she was indeed ready for him. He sat up pulling her to a seated position as well, physically pulling her onto his lap and allowing her to clamp her legs around his waist. He smiled up at her, she smiled back gasping with the realisation of what he intended her to do. She nodded her approval as she positioned her opening over the tip of his penis and slowly began to slide herself over him. Gradually she moved up and down, going at her own pace. She stopped briefly when her hymen finally gave way, the small amount of pain subsiding quickly as John pulled her into his embrace and held onto her.

"Are you alright, Margaret?" He whispered, noticing a few unshed tears skimming along the bottom of her eyelids. She nodded, kissing him with such adoration before taking up the reins once more and slowly encompassing the whole of him inside the whole of her, fitting them perfectly together. Steadily her rhythm increased and in so doing his did as well. Both encouraged the other with further embraces, kisses and loving touches to the point where neither could take it any longer and they came together. Margaret cried out in ecstasy, throwing her head back as the waves of her orgasm threw her over the edge. She could feel the hot flash of John's love fill her as he too met his orgasm full on before drawing her to him and kissing her sweat soaked skin. "Oh, Margaret?"

"Yes, John?" She asked, giggling at the sensation of his quickly receding penis escaping her cavity.

"How was that for you?" He breathed out.

"Remarkable. I imagined that our first time would be good ... but not like that."

"Really?" He watched her nod her head. "Good."

"What about you?" She asked timidly, "was it good for you also?"

"Oh, Margaret, that was truly amazing. I've never experienced it as good as that before and it's only set to get better."

"What do you mean?" She asked intriguingly.

"Do you not think that with each time a man or woman practises something, they get better at it? Like learning a language or to play an instrument?"

"I suppose so, yes!"

"So, going by that answer, don't you then think that when a man and a woman, especially those that love each other like you and I, that they also get better at the art of lovemaking each and every time they try it?"

"Yes, I suppose they do."

John helped Margaret to her feet and, after finding his drawers, began to help her dress. "I do believe, Miss Hale, that once you are mine and mine alone mind, we are going to have a very healthy 'behind closed doors' relationship, have many very good and varying love filled encounters and be blessed by having many children."

"Yes, I'm sure we will? They don't all have to be 'behind closed doors', do they?" She teased him, as he helped her retie the laces in her corset.

He leant in, whispering into her ear, "if this afternoon is anything to go by then I'm not going to be able to stop you bringing it back outside. Besides, even once we are married, I don't think my mother would be very pleased to hear you shout out my name so clearly in the throes of our passion as she tries to sleep in the room next door or even at the end of the corridor. I'm going to have to quieten you down somehow."

"Oh, let her hear. Either that or she can move in with Fanny. I want the world to know how I feel about you; however they hear me say or shout it out."

John smiled, "thank you, little one. I rather liked the sound of you screaming my name out when we were making love."

"Good, I intend to do it all of the time, morning, noon and night!"

"Noon?" He asked, his eyebrows creeping up in mock shock. He pulled the now clothed Margaret to him, kissing her on the mouth.

"Yes, my love, should the fancy take us. I trust that we will be able to make the excuse of going to bed in the middle of the day if we are over exerted from the night before."

"But obviously, we won't be tired at all, just be going for another 'bout' in the ring so to speak?"

"Exactly!" Margaret slipped her hand into John's as they now began to make their way back to the mill. "John?"

"Hmm?"

"I cannot wait till we're married."

"Nor I, love." John raised her hand to his mouth, kissing it.

.oOo.

Margaret awoke with a start, the light rapping on her bedroom door only adding to the tension she was already feeling. "Margaret, are you alright?"

"Yes, John, I'm fine," speaking just loud enough for him to hear her, sighing inwardly so that he was unaware of any discomfort she was actually feeling.

"Thank God. You woke me up, calling out my name. Well, screaming more like. Thought you must be in some kind of mortal danger or have a terrible pain of some kind."

"No, everything's fine." She suppressed a giggle. "Go back to bed, it must be early."

"It's 4.15 am, little one."

"Then it's too early to be awake, John. Please, go back to bed until the time is right."

"Night then, little one."

"Goodnight, John." She could hear his feet pad away from her as John made his way back into his own room. The door was shut in virtual silence but she knew instinctively that he was now safely confined within its walls.

Letting out the breath she was seemingly holding she laid back against the pillows, images traipsing through her head re-enacting the vivid dream she must have had before she had be woken by John. She hoped that she had only awoken John, praying that no-one else would have heard her calling out his name or worse. If she'd screamed his name then what other noises had she also let slip from her lips.

And then there were the images, between her education and the stories that Edith had told Margaret about the bedroom antics of any married couple, she was sure that what she had envisaged had been accurate. Her dream played out again and again, she prided herself on her boldness hoping that she could be as brazen when she was eventually invited into John's bed as Mrs John Thornton. Going by what she had seen she felt sure that she was going to enjoy her married life.

It was then that she realised that that could have quite easily happened that very afternoon. Had John not made sure that there was always a bit of distance between them and any embrace that was entered into was at least able to be stopped, things could have quite easily got out of hand.

She attempted to settle herself but this didn't appear to want to happen. She read a book but found she couldn't concentrate, reading the same page over and over again. She tried to start a letter to Edith but couldn't put pen to paper and write anything. She tried taking a turn about her room but her mind kept overflowing with her images of wanting and brazenness.

The pit of her stomach knotted, her groin momentarily ached before receding before aching again, she pooled between her legs at the images of John's nakedness before her. For such a collected individual she was beginning to wonder if she was becoming hysterical and if so, did that mean she should see a doctor. She needed to speak to someone, but whom? Jane would have listened and advised her but would then have gossiped about 'Miss Hale's problems'. There would be no room for a talk of this nature with Mrs Thornton. The matriarch's expected levels of propriety between John and Margaret were set exceptionally high, so much so that they had already crossed them on a number of occasions. This left John. Her beloved fiancé and dear friend.

Resolved, she picked herself up from her position in her bed, covered herself in the large dressing gown that she now possessed and stepped out into the corridor. She walked the few steps between hers and John's room and pressed her ear against the door but couldn't hear much, so she tapped on it calling out, "John? Are you awake?" Nothing was forthcoming, perhaps he wasn't there. She opened the door a chink and looked in; she could hear the clock on the mantel ticking away grandly over on the right so she looked over to where she envisaged the bed to be. It appeared empty from where she stood but that didn't mean it was unoccupied, especially considering that the bed was still made up on the portion of the bed that she could see. She stepped further into the room, closing the door behind her and moving into the room so that she was able to see over the bedstead.

She stopped; she could see him in the pale light from the last remaining embers of the fire, his back toward her. She circled the bed attempting to get as close as she could without waking him treading carefully. A loose floorboard underfoot signalled her arrival as John shot up in bed searching the room for the culprit and exposing his chest to the all encompassing gaze of his beloved.

"Margaret," he whispered, "is that you?"

"Yes, John. I'm sorry, I couldn't sleep."

"Come here, little one," he patted the bed cover beside him as he laid his body back up against the numerous pillows that sat behind him.

"I think I'd better not." She responded, taking a seat upon the chair next to the hearth.

"Afraid I'll pounce?"

"No," she laughed, "I'm afraid I might though."

John's face took on a puzzled expression. "What's troubling you, Margaret? Is it my fault you can't sleep?"

"No, no-one's fault. I just had a particularly vivid dream and I can't get back to sleep for wondering about it."

"Was it nightmarish?"

"On the contrary. It was very pleasant."

"So, why is it stopping you from sleeping?"

"Because it brings up too many unanswered questions, questions I will have for weeks unless I ask you about them now."

"Might this be the kind of conversation that only you and I should be having on our wedding night?" He asked, in his all knowing way.

"I suppose so. But I can't wait that long, I feel I must get these questions answered now."

"Alright then, could you pass me my dressing gown, please?" Margaret eyed him suspiciously. "It's either that or you can lock door." She did as she was bid, handing him his dressing gown, turning away from him as he put it on and resuming her place in the chair as soon as John had locked the door. He decided to sit in the chair opposite Margaret, pulling his lapels over the exposed part of his chest and draping the tails over his uncovered legs. "So, what questions do you need answering?"

"I have many."

"Margaret, we have as long as it takes. What is your first?"

"Alright, some questions might seem a little forward." She said apprehensively.

"It's fine, my love, be as direct as you need to be."

"How many women have you ever made love to?"

"None, little one. I can't deny that I haven't shared my bed with other women but I've never made love to any of them. That shall occur between you and me only, once we are married." She smiled knowing in her heart that this could be the only answer.

"Do you have any children?"

"Do you think my mother would have let me walk away from any child of mine? No, I was always careful."

"I had a dream tonight, a wonderful, remarkable vision of you and me, making love, John. And now my head is in a whirl and my body, well it feels so different."

"In what way does it feel different?"

"I saw you, in my mind's eye, naked before me."

"You know what I look like naked?"

"What I imagine you to look like, I mean. I've seen anatomical pictures and Edith has told me about when a man is ..."

John smiled, "when a man is?" He teased.

"Ready?"

"Oh, ready. She's told you about this." He watched her nod. "What else has she told you?"

"About copulation, about how a man forces himself inside his mate."

"It's a wonder you didn't have a nightmare with talk like that, and a wonder she ever became impregnated." His anger simmered. He crossed the distance between them and took her hands in his forcing her to stand in front of him. Leading her over to the bed he sat on the edge and motioned for her to do the same. His hand instinctively went to her cheek, brushing away loose tendrils of hair and swirling patterns over her smooth skin. "Margaret, when a man truly loves his mate, or in this case, his wife, things are not like that. He doesn't force himself upon her; he certainly doesn't force himself inside her. He makes her feel special, loved, comfortable, he adores her, he worships her, he makes sure that she is completely ready for him before he even thinks of going anywhere near her to form their ultimate union. I absolutely love you, Margaret and I would never allow anyone or anything to harm you, so why would I want to hurt you myself?"

Margaret shook her head, "but isn't it painful, the first time?"

"It is for most women, but once it's happened it never hurts again. I can promise you that. Is there anything else you need to ask?"

"Yes, why, when I saw you, did I feel funny?"

"Funny? In what way?"

"Funny... here?" She pointed to her groin.

"Oh, I'm surprised Edith didn't tell you what happened when a woman was physically excited by a man, especially after she was so succinct in telling you about men."

"Don't be churlish, it doesn't become you!"

He smiled. "How do you feel down there?"

"A little wet, if I'm honest."

"That's good, as it should be."

"I thought there was something wrong with me."

"Nothing wrong, it is completely natural. When a woman is ready for her husband to unite with her she becomes wet, probably much more than you are now already."

"How do you know I feel like that now?"

"Because you're inquisitive, you've chosen to speak to me about your dream and I bet you're itching to find out exactly what I have on under this robe."

"I am not!"

"You are!"

"Ok, I am. I can imagine you're feeling the same way."

"Yes, I am. But I can wait to have my time with you, wait to strip your wedding dress and your under garments from your body and love you the way that God intended me to."

"So, does this make me very naughty?"

"Depends on what exactly you dreamt about."

"I told you, you and I, together, forming a union that only two lovers should make."

"Where were we?"

"On the bank of the river, in the wood."

"Where I took you today?" She nodded, "Margaret, you are definitely wanton, I'll give you that."

"Wouldn't you like to ...?"

"What, take you up to that spot on a lovely summers day and make love to you in that wood by the river?" She nodded again. He smiled, "I would love to, one day. But only after we have been married for a little while, then perhaps we can. Does that answer all of your questions now?"

"No, I have one more. Why was I screaming you name out in my sleep?"

"That may best be answered once we are married. Do you think you can manage waiting for just that one?"

"Yes, I can manage that. Thank you, John."

"My pleasure, now get to bed before mother wakes and finds you in my room." He allowed her the briefest of kisses before she stealthy removed herself from his room, leaving him to reflect on Margaret's thoughts and images. "Oh Margaret, you have no idea what you have done to me, telling me of your visions and asking me those questions. And if you actually call my name out like that when we are in the throes of passion ... well, I am never going to be able to contain myself."
- 7
- 8
- 9
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

North & South: A Continutation